Pen looks at Briar, surprise on her face, before it settles into determination. She trusts Briar's nose implicitly, but to force the creature to reveal itself, she casts one of her diviner spells.
In elven, she announces it to 'Reveal Itself', not the most original, but Pen leans much more toward practical than creative.
Pen's spell allows her to see Ndede's true form--that of a horrific, one-eyed humanoid whose arms end in batlike wings and whose feet are tipped with sharp talons!
Penelope isn't surprised at the reveal to her vision, since Briar had already warned her. She thinks quickly about what it is.
Pen recognizes the creature as a popobawa. Cruel shapechangers, popobawas feed on negative emotions, particularly fear, despair, and anguish. Though they're dangerously strong carnivores that drink the blood of their victims, their greatest pleasure lies in mesmerizing victims to cause suffering and spread chaos. A popobawa moves about populated areas in disguise, seeking new victims and revisiting past victims to bask in their suffering, spreading gossip and incriminating innocents for its crimes while still relishing its own loathsome infamy.
Between the odd scent and Pentella's expression, Clara tenses.
Is everyone here really after those cards? What makes them worth so much trouble?
She reaches into her sleeve and scratches Hats on the chin, warning her little helper than she might need a hand soon.
"Briar means you are not human, and probably not even a wizard" A touch of a frown on her face means she finds the second worse than the first. "It is a Popobawa. Bloodsuckers who feed on negative emotions. Whether it was part of this band in earnest or just preying on them... " she looks to Visna "... It is our enemy."
Ndede's polite facade instantly drops. He snarls, but thanks to Pen's warning, you are able to make the first moves against him!
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Everything she has read on this type of creature has been evil, so without hesitation she casts two spells to heighten her companions ability to defeat it quickly.
Each of her companions, and herself, now see the popobawa splitting in multiple possibilities as well as being empowered with the speed to hit each of those possibilities.
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As soon as Ndede's façade drops Briar is off like a dog that had been straining at the leash. She receives Pentella's blessings halfway to the target and lunges at the creature. With a flash she's torn into the creature's wing and locked her jaws onto it's arm.
A quick strike to the face or mouth silences your opponent. Make a melee Strike against a foe. The foe must succeed at a Fortitude save against your class DC 30.
Success: The target is unaffected.
Failure: The target is dazed and can barely vocalize. It's stunned 1 and its speech is raspy and hard to understand. It must succeed at a DC 11 flat check to use linguistic actions or supply verbal spellcasting components until the end of its next turn.
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Clara whispers, "Hats: Peshspine and Fire, stat!", and moments later the well-dressed squirrel drops two bottles of fizzypop in Clara's open hands.
The colorful fizzician shakes them both up and lobs them at the popobawa, calling out, "It's time to learn what happens when you overshake sodapop!"
As she does, she thinks back if there was anything in great-granddaddy's notes about popobawas, that might help her and her allies.
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Visna rockets forward with a shout that seems to set the mesa itself to rumbling!
Carving a baleful rune upon her Maiden's Smile, she hacks away at this thief of joy until whatever is true within his disguise emerges, hauling and yanking him off balance.
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Clara is unable to remember anything else about popobawas. She hurls a peshspine grenade that peppers the disguised monster with cactus needles, but her alchemists' fire misses the mark.
Visna's battle cry has left Ndede frightened. She exploits his personal anathema as she moves in and attacks with a snagging strike, scoring a critical hit! She misses with her follow-up grab.
Briar charges in to bite Ndede. She misses with her second bite but manages to grab the popobawa but not restrain him.
Shrieking with fury, Ndede's body shifts as he assumes his true form! A foul stench fills the air around him as he bites at Briar! As his teeth tear into the gnoll, she is filled with feelings of shame and self-loathing.
Ndede's wounds from Briar's jaws continue to bleed.
Success: The target is unaffected.
Failure: The target becomes stupefied 1 until the curse is removed.
Critical Failure: As failure, but the target is also doomed 1.
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Briar's body tenses at the bite of Ndede's bite and her nostrils flair at an intake of the foul air and for a moment she seems to release her bite on it's limb. Only to go for the throat wile wrapping her arms under and around the batlike shoulder to try and get a pinning grip.
Ndede may slip from her grasp any moment, but Briar attempts to crush his windpipe before he can.
Success: The target is unaffected.
Failure: The target is dazed and can barely vocalize. It's stunned 1 and its speech is raspy and hard to understand. It must succeed at a DC 11 flat check to use linguistic actions or supply verbal spellcasting components until the end of its next turn.
Critical: Failure As failure, but the creature is stunned 3 instead of stunned 1.
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Pen is stunned as the very fizzy liquid Clarabibulus Flingflopsparkfizz gave her and Visna to drink is now being used to explode in shards of needles and fire. At that moment a gas bubble from said drink decides to escape Pen's body, giving the elven wizard a moment of sheer panic.
But she doesn't explode... yet... and Briar is bleeding badly, so there is no more time to worry about carbonated death.
Raising her hand she draws in her arcane powers and pews a half dozen glowing orbs into the leathery winged one eyed bad person.
As Visna battles, the Juggler card that she bears seems to almost grant her another limb. For a moment she is snatching at the Popobawa as her axe bites home, the next moment she has flung the axe out in a brutal arc until it whistles back to her hand, a fat yellow coin clutched in one fist as a talisman. Never do her hands stop moving, blurring as every strike and defense is met with its anathema.
Visna yanks at the cyclopean gargoyle? slightly built butcher, hauling his curled hands from Briar's ruff as she holds him fast, then releases him just as fast!
Clara is disgusted when her prized nose–able to find morels hidden under musty forest leaves, and discern just when a fizzy cola is ready to bottle–is assaulted by the batclops' foul stench.
Gagging, her horror deepens as she finds she feels so lousy that she's even lost her taste for fizzy drinks...but the sight of Briar's wounds snaps her into action. With expert ease, she slides next to her, slaps on a bandage, and squirts yet another fizzy, foaming liquid into the wound.
Then she pulls together the ingredients to finish two more fizzypops, and tosses them as well.
Suddenly the smell hits Pen, which unfortunately combines with her sudden distress over carbonation, and she has a moment best not written about.
Pen blasts Ndede with magic missiles. Clara peppers him with lightning and vexing vapors. Briar bites down hard around the popobawa's neck before Visna moves in, slicing him and grabbing a hold. The thaumaturge whirls around with the monster in her grasp and tosses him away! He crashes into a pile of crates and debris, the final blow wounding him enough that he slumps to the ground with a groan and lies still!
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When the creature is down and not getting back up, Pen turns to the gnome, "Ms. Flingflopsparkfizz, are the drinks you gave us earlier safe?"
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Briar pants for a bit after the creature lays still before rolling her shoulder where the creature had bit her. Between the dragon hide, her corded musculature, and the quick application of medical gauze from Clara it is mostly superficial.
With a final exhale she looks to the rest. "Everyone still intact? Good." She spits a great glob of presumably mostly Ndede's blood onto the ground and wipes her chops with the back of her arm. "Thing tastes worse than it smells."
Briar's observation makes Pen's gaze shoot her way, obvious disbelief that anything can be worse than the smell. But she nods, after a moment, not wishing in any way to get proof.
"I shall give thanks then to Gorum for providing me a steelier bite."
Searching through the trade goods here, you discover a greater explosive arrow, a neatly-packaged satchel containing all the components for a bleeding spines snare, four bolts of fine cloth worth 120 gp each, an ornate stool made of ebony and jasper worth 220 gp, nine boxes of gilt parchment worth 90 gp per box, and (spread through dozens of small pouches and containers) 458 gp and 3,390 sp. In addition, there’s about 50 gp of miscellaneous trade goods and gear scattered throughout the area, but transporting all of this relatively mundane gear out of the room might not be worth the effort.
Some of the chests filled with straw or paper also contain vials of alchemist’s fire; there are two greater alchemist’s fire and six moderate alchemist’s fire. Clara realizes that they aren’t part of the goods originally packed here but have been added later in a way that makes immolating the entire pile suspiciously easy...
Ndede's room contains a heap of blankets, as well as a mismatched writing desk and dresser. The desk contains a variety of alchemical substances. The alchemical equipment includes a vial of purple worm venom, a major antidote, and a major acid flask among a collection of unused supplies and reagents. In all, these supplies are worth 250 gp for the purposes of crafting alchemical items.
The final room in this section of the complex contains a comfortable looking bedroll and several open chests filled with clothes and books. The room appears to be lived in recently. The books are all treatises on Aroden and prophecies, and among the clothes is a greater clandestine cloak.
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When the creature is down and not getting back up, Pen turns to the gnome, "Ms. Flingflopsparkfizz, are the drinks you gave us earlier safe?"
Clara scratches her cotton-candy-colored hair, a bit taken aback.
"Safe?? Would you ask if it's safe to hear a performance The Starfall Sonnets, by Boamiel the Bright, on a midsummer's night in Kyonin? If Desna sent a herald to offer you a tour of her Sevenfold Cynosure, would you ask if it's safe? Would you ask if it's safe to fall in love?" Clara shakes her head in confusion. "The right fizzypop might perhaps keep you safe–say by letting you breath underwater, or see in the dark, or replenish your vital humours–or for that matter might keep you safe by blowing up your foes.
"Admittedly, it's worth keeping the latter fizzypops well labeled, so one doesn't drink them by accident. But know that great great great great great great great granddaddy Umbilicus Flingflopsparkfizz used fizzy drinks both to improve the internal chymistry of his allies and to catch his foes on fire. As he said, 'Fizzy drinks are large. They contain multitudes.'"
Pen's eyes widen briefly as she takes in the response. Maybe a little wider at some of the statements then others. Her mind works and wonders, then she thinks outloud "If any of my spells were capable of creating food, it would be the same? A fireball and a magical meal would just be a difference of ingredients: components, words, gestures, and will,"
Once you are ready, you return to the landing on the Storval Stairs and cross to the door on the south side. The ceiling of this long hall reaches up thirty feet. A ring of stones surrounds a large campfire in the center of the room, while a cauldron set over the fire bubbles and emits a savory aroma. Three jury‑rigged tables with equally shabby chairs stand elsewhere in the room, while to the east, several crates, bags, and barrels of foodstuffs are stacked against the walls.
Four mercenaries from the Band of Blades sit around a table, relaxing with bowls of stew while they play a game using a well-worn Harrow deck. They seem to be taken off-guard by your unexpected arrival!
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Briar very unlike her barbarian-looks takes the time to flip through the books and place them gently into her bag of holding. "Sanjana will love to look over these I'm sure. I wouldn't mind a glance or two myself."
After a few minutes to catch her breath she takes up point for the now rallied together group. When they see the mercenaries at the table Briar doesn't slow her stride and instead opens her arms wide.
"Look, I know most mercs this side of Mwangi aren't that smart. But take a good look. We've made our way all the way up here, without breaking a sweat. Do you really think you four chucklef**&s stand a chance? Your friends downstairs in the barracks thought not and decided to live another day. Your 'accountant' not so much."
"Lay down your arms, and you will be permitted to find new paths henceforth, but those who wish to make their account to the gods 'ere they grow older will be indulged."
The mercenaries are shaken by your bold proclamations. They don't immediately flee, however. "We're here on orders of our leader, Arodeth," one of them says. "We will not defy her, but we can escort you into her presence if you want to speak to her."
The servant behind the warriors and alchemist frets a bit at the mercenary's offer. Tactically it is a bad idea. If they have to fight this leader (and if they have a Popobawa as a member they probably will), they will be facing these guards at the same time. Ethically, giving them and the leader a chance to walk away and live is better of course.
Practicality would favor their own lives, but she is uncertain. So she grasps her 'broom' tightly and waits.
Visna's gaze takes in the bandits and dismisses them nearly as quickly. "Know you that if your Arodeth intends treachery, hers will not be the only thread cut to a sudden end."
Clara takes her new companions' lead, but , she hands Briar and Visna each a bottle of fucsia fizzypop and whispers , "Hopefully this won't get messy...but if it looks like it's going to, take a swig of this and it'll make you feel a little better."
The mercenaries escort you through a sparring chamber where a half-dozen other warriors are practicing their combat maneuvers. These men and women fall in line to join your "honor guard," eyeing you suspiciously. You cross the room to a door across the way.
This T-shaped room is lined with bookshelves. Rather than books, the shelves are instead filled with rows upon rows of narrow plates of stone or steel, stacked atop each other in messy piles. A table in the middle of the room holds stacks of these tablets, along with several notebooks and writing implements.
An old woman is at the end of the room furthest from the door, reading some of the tablets. Her dark hair has turned gray, and her face is weathered, but she has soft features and kindly eyes. She looks up curiously as you enter. "These travelers have requested an audience with you, milady," the lead mercenary says with a salute.
The woman nods. "Very well. I am Arodeth, commander of the Band of Blades. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"
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Briar had expected many things to meet them at this junction but to see a wisened elder woman at the head of this organization was not it. She expected a young brash heart leading the band.
As such she gives the elderly woman what respect she's due simply by presence alone and gives a very shallow bow keeping her eyes raised towards the woman. "I am Briarthorn of clan Jamalpajaz, slayer of the tyrant king Kaldazah, student of Maagambya, devil eater, giant slayer, and chosen of the Harrowcourt." She ends her bow, and motions towards her companions, "My companions may speak on their own behalf, but we have come to liberate the steps for those who call this place home."
Feeling like she should not deceive at the moment, the servant pulls down her hood to let her pointed ears catch and bounce a little. The illusion of obscurity is only partially popped, since of the four, Pen is the least vivid.
"I am Pentella Cole." she doesn't add any titles or deeds. Her eyes shift toward the books "May we ask what you are studying?" her curiosity high.
"I have been looking into this ancient ruin itself," Arodeth says. "Did you know that those two enormous statues of Runelord Karzoug that flank the Storval Stairs are powerful weapons? These tablets describe special crystals—grown in a hidden chamber on the other side of the stairs—that, when socketed in place behind the statue’s eyes, allow the statue to direct beams of fire and ice to strike at foes below. It's quite fascinating."
She looks from Pen to Briar. "The Stairs are safe enough to travel for those willing to pay our toll. But we will not be abandoning our operation here. It is far too lucrative."
"Tell me then, sellsword. What claim have you to these steps, beyond the leech's right to a calf? The claim of good stewardship, history, and the love of those who dwell here rings out more truly than a claim based on greed and mere might. For those still mightier stand before you now."
Arodeth narrows her eyes. "You may be mighty, indeed. The Band of Blades is a large organization. I have heard reports that one of my mercenaries might have faced off against a powerful band matching your description in Absalom, but I haven't authorized any actions in that city. I hope you might be able to shed some light on the encounter?"
"A weapon..." the idea is interesting and horrifying. Mercenaries willing to extort money for simple travel will do even worse with giant statues that can cause wide spread destruction.
As the conversation shifts, Pen frets at being recognized, internally thinking this is why you keep a low profile. It is just practically safer.
The elf spares a quick at Briar and Visna, knowing their minds are probably not thinking the same thing. Which both makes her want to sigh and smile.
Clara's about to introduce herself, and tell this lady Arodeth all about Great-great-great-great-great-grandpapa Umbilicus and the Ultimate Fizzy Drink, when she hears an unsettling edge in the old human's voice, talking about the way the Karzoug statues can be used as weapons.
As Clara's considering if she should mention her own fizzy ambitions, Arodeth indicates that her new companions have perhaps met Arodeth's mercenaries before, and Clara decides (uncharacteristically) to let them answer before she takes the conversation elsewhere.
Instead, she leans on the edge of the table and takes a sip of fizzy pop.
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"So you claim wayward souls within your organization attacked withiut your order?" Briar shook her head. "You have obviously avoided the greatmother's jaws long enough to prove you have found wisdom. So I must ask why you would lead your war pack here, to displace the people of this land in such a manner? Simply to obtain a weapon in the form of the statues, to reap wealth for tolling a passway you don't even protect."
"They pursued an innocent across they city, wielding weapons and power both infernal and insufficient. If in truth you did not issue their commands, then I must ask. Who could do so that would tamper with the workings of Fate?"
"Aside from this ruin, I have been looking into the nature of ancient prophecies," Arodeth says to Briar. She sighs before launching into a lengthy story. "A long time ago, my father, Lord Garron of Cheliax, discovered a tome of prophecies called the Book of 1,000 Whispers. He had been a devout follower of Aroden before the god's death--indeed, he named me in Aroden's honor. He believed that death had been a cosmic error. By ensuring the prophecies in the Book of 1,000 Whispers came to pass, my father believed he could correct the error and Aroden would return.
"The last of the prophecies in the book was to take place in 4714 AR. My father knew he wouldn't live long enough to see Aroden's return come to pass, so he made sure to instill in me the importance of his work. I did what I supposed to do. I orchestrated the prophecies when necessary to be sure they occurred. And then the appointed time of Aroden's return came, and... nothing happened. My lifelong purpose proved fruitless.
"I was distraught, as you might imagine, and so I enacted a desperate gamble to steal a powerful artifact from the Pathfinder Society to try to pull Aroden out of the past and into the present. However, that mission proved disastrous. I myself would have been lost in the past and perished during Earthfall if not for the efforts of some kind-hearted Pathfinders who took mercy on me and returned me to the present.
"And now, here I am. A failure twice over. The Band of Blades are all I have now, and so I must do all I can to preserve them and ensure their prosperity. I have faced too many failures. I cannot lose again."
When Visna explains the situation in Absalom, Arodeth scowls angrily. scowls angrily. "Infernal power. Drustan. I might have guessed. The organization is only hanging by a thread already. Rogue actions impair our survivability.
"Lord Drustan an angry and vengeful ex-noble. Although he has eschewed his native Cheliax, he maintains connections with several powerful devils. His undeniable might and leadership ability made him a valuable lieutenant despite his unpleasant demeanor and unsavory associations. However, it seems he has been pursuing his own goals. The last I remember, Drustan talked about some 'like-minded seekers' who were looking for parts of some extraordinarily powerful artifact."
Clara listens, curious.
Hmmmmm, the obsession with statues shooting fire and ice is a little weird...but then who am I to get down on someone for geeking out about weird s%!$? (Or explosives, for that matter? And I can sure relate to trying to complete a Grand Family Project. Did I have this Lady Arodeth wrong? Or is there something unsavory she's leaving unsaid?
Clara can sense no deception from Arodeth.
Pen has considered time travel on several (SEVERAL) occasions in her life. The thought of saving two... no, it doesn't work, it never works, all her studies says so, it destroys, rends, Breaks you all over again. Even the tiny grain of hope it brings is enough to burrow into your heart and hurt so much.
The elven wizard blinks quickly, pushing away the thoughts, and asks "How much is the toll that you enforce?" she realizes she doesn't know a detail that is important.
"The toll is tailored to the apparent wealth of the traveling party," Arodeth says. "For a group such as yours, we would charge a premium price of 200 gp per person."